


Leftovers

by Jerry_Larchive



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerry_Larchive/pseuds/Jerry_Larchive
Summary: Jackson realizes just a few of the little ways his marriage to April changed him.





	Leftovers

**Author's Note:**

> A frothy little Japril OS  
> S14 Jackson seems all but unrecognizable, still I like to think that his marriage to April had positive lasting effects on him both big and small. This little thing celebrates a few of those smaller things. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and, of course, comments of any length are most welcome.

There had been a factory fire with Grey Sloan taking in many burn victims. Consequently, it had been a busy morning and Jackson was happy to get a break to eat his lunch. He stopped by the Attending s Lounge to grab the Tupperware that held the lunch he'd brought from home.

After a stop at the cafeteria microwave, he scanned the tables and saw Maggie sitting alone unenthusiastically picking through a salad. He made his way to her table.

“Hey.” he greeted her.

“Hey back.” she replied with a smile.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” she answered.

Jackson proceeded to sit and pop open his plastic container. Maggie caught a whiff of something delicious.

“What have you got there?” she asked, indicating the container that he was now stabbing into with his fork.

“Meatloaf.” Jackson answered, just before popping the first forkful into his mouth.

“I didn't see meatloaf on the menu.” she answered, obviously a bit envious that his lunch appeared much more appetizing than hers.

“It's not. I brought this from home.” he replied. “Want a taste?”

“Yes, please.” she responded.

He loaded up his fork and extended it toward her. She inhaled the bite from the fork, chewed, and immediately smiled and nodded.

“Oh my God, that is so good. You made that?”

“Yep. Two days ago, in fact.” he answered proudly.

“Two days ago? Really. But it's not dried out or anything.”

“That's because I know how to store it so it stays moist and tasty through as many reheats as needed.”

“Really? There's a trick to that?”

“Absolutely. I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.” Jackson smiled.

Her brows arched. “And who taught you that trick?” Maggie asked.

“Uh.., April did.” he answered. For some reason he felt funny mentioning April around Maggie ever since the night of the explosion.

“Huh, well whatever it is, this meatloaf tastes better two days later than mine does coming right out of the oven.”

“A great cook makes all the difference.” he smirked.

“Your own recipe?” she inquired. “Because I want it.”

“Uh.., that came from April too. But she wouldn't mind if I give it to you, I'm sure.” Jackson answered.

“Nevermind, I'll get it from her myself, when I ask her what the trick is to storing food to preserve it's freshness.” Maggie answered.

“And there goes the secret.” he laughed. “You know, stuff like meatloaf actually tastes better after the first day anyway. The tastes have a chance to blend and mature.”

“You get that from the Food Network?”

Jackson paused. “No, April taught me that.” he admitted.

“Huh, just never figured you for a leftovers guy.” Maggie observed.

“Well, I'm not. Okay, I guess I am now. But I didn't used to be.”

“Oh, and what won you over?”

Jackson sighed. “Apr..”

“April.” Maggie finished for him. “Of course.” She, too, got a little uncomfortable talking about April with Jackson. She got up. “Okay, back to work I go. See ya later.”

Jackson, his mouth full of meatloaf, nodded and waved.

  
  


He stepped through the door and wearily went to hang his keys on the rack on the wall in the entrance-way. Just as he looped the keyring over the end hook, he stopped.

One of the first things he had done on moving into this fancy new penthouse apartment was put this up for hanging his keys. He hadn't really even thought about it. But now, suddenly he was thinking about it.

Before marrying April, Jackson had no system for keeping track of his keys, and as a result, had a dismal record when it came to being on time for anything. That lack of a system had lasted until they were both late for work three days after April moved in. It had taken about a week for him to become conditioned to the putting his keys on the hooks. And he hadn't been late due to missing keys ever since.

Even though they had lived apart for many days since the divorce, the key hooks had become ingrained in him. He knew that he would struggle if he tried to abandon it for his old way of doing things. But why try. Just because April was no longer with him, he didn't need to abandon all she had taught him. Did he? No. Besides, it wasn't as though she had broken up with him and he needed to erase every trace of her from his life. He was the one who had demanded the divorce. And he was the one who had let her move out just weeks ago without protest. Yeah, it's not like she invented key hooks.

Jackson decided he needed a beer and went to open the refrigerator door to hunt for one. He reached around the neat stack of Tupperware containers containing the week's lunches that he had prepared for himself the previous Sunday, including one more serving of meatloaf. Again he stopped and stared. That was another April thing. Her habit of preparing food on the weekend to free up scarce and valuable weekday time had been much more difficult to assimilate than the key hooks.

Jackson had never been fond of cooking. But cooking with April had been a gateway drug for him to discover that cooking had it's own merits. Of course cooking with April was much more fun than cooking alone. For reasons he could not for the life of him explain, April in the kitchen with an apron on was the sexiest thing he had ever experienced. Maybe it was because she enjoyed it so much; maybe because it almost always led to sex either during or after, or maybe it was something bizarre like the way those apron's accentuated her killer body. He didn't know. What he did know, is that he had come to look forward to Sunday for reasons other than NFL football.

But that was another habit that April left behind for him to maintain. And even inheriting millions hadn't driven him from it.

The fridge door alarm snapped him out of his trance. He shut the door and went to a drawer to find his bottle opener. Digging the opener out he placed his beer bottle on the counter and was about to open it when he saw the expresso machine behind it on the counter top.

“Ima gonna get you one of those milk frothy things.” she had told him that day in the lounge, wearing her speedo under her scrubs because she refused to send her laundry out. And she had invested (her words) in a machine, splurging (his) on a really nice one that produced killer lattes. And he used it. But he also still dropped a whole lot of money at Starbucks and the dozens of other coffee places around Seattle. Okay, so she had only been partially successful there. Still it brought a smile to his face. That Speedo. Ha!

Speaking of laundry, he needed to throw a load in really quickly lest he, too, run out of underwear. Yes, Jackson Avery had finally learned how to do laundry. He did it for one reason, and one reason only; to please her. He guessed it was her way of staying grounded. Or maybe her way of staying close to her roots in Moline? He didn't know, really, but if it pleased her then he would do it. Little did he realize how handy the skill would become when they had Harriet. At least she had agreed to the diaper service.

Jackson sorted his clothes, along with a few of Harriet's that remained at his place, and started the load. Then he grabbed some leftover lasagne from the fridge, heated it in the microwave, and plopped down on the couch to catch the end of the game.

But he found his attention wandering. Today he had realized how much of his new normal he had carried over from his old normal. Really there was only one thing missing. One very important thing.

It wasn't until the washing machine signaled it was done that Jackson Avery realized that tears were spilling down his cheeks.

 


End file.
